The film divides fairly neatly into 4 20-minute sections, as we follow first the apparently very happy marriage of François and his wife Therese with their two small children; the beginnings of François' affair with Émilie; the growing intensity of that affair and his disclosure of it to Therese; and the aftermath. There's no way to properly discuss this without serious spoilers, so I hope anyone reading this has seen the film.
Throughout the film the music of Mozart is used, specifically the Clarinet Quintet, much of it enormously cheerful and beautiful but with a melancholy undertone always struggling to break to the surface - and this describes the film as well. Each segment of the film is broken up by a day in the country as the family leaves the confines of their medium-sized provincial city - each segment (save the last) begins in a carefree, naive and innocent happiness and the exquisite photography romances both the beautiful couple with their children and the countryside. Nothing could be more gorgeous...
But in fact François seems to suffer from an excess of happiness - he actually says as much at one point - or rather, he is incapable of feeling anything deep at all and experiences only a shallow surface thrill at the beauty of both his wife and his new love. He can't ever really decide between them and seems unable to grasp that he should even be thinking in that way, and that there might be problems developing as a result. I don't think it's any coincidence that Émilie bears a strong resemblance to Therese - blonde, roughly the same height and build, affecting fairly similar clothing and in the end, doubling in every way for her predecessor. François doesn't really want something different - he wants more of the same - or rather, he just wants to adore and be adored in a simple and childish way without thought of consequences. Perhaps it wouldn't matter if Émilie was strikingly different from Therese - but then perhaps it wouldn't be as obvious to us that all the man sees is the surface, and one surface seems as good as another...
At the climax of the film, the end of the third part, François confesses his affair, and it's obvious that he has no comprehension that it could be a problem - he has enough love for both of them, you see. But Therese, perhaps as incapable as he is of truly adult comprehension or communication, nevertheless is capable of rejection, and she does so in dramatic and final fashion, forcing him to choose by removing herself from the equation. At the end, Émilie has replaced her in every way and the only person who has apparently learned anything is the one who ended her life.
Varda deliberately creates a film that is all bold surfaces and colors - bright reds, pastel blues and greens, sunny yellows - and it is her use of color and editing that define the melancholy that underlies the happiness. When Émilie shows François her apartment for the first time there is a series of very quick cuts that show her possessions as François looks around, as if to show that in a few seconds he has taken in all he needs to, that he has found what he's looking for and doesn't need to think about it. And he never does.
All three characters are fairly shallow, at least the film doesn't explicitly show us anything much to contradict that, and this leads to an extraordinarily cynical feeling, particularly on a second viewing for me - really, she seems to be saying, if we don't think and don't communicate with each other, if all we want is happiness, then what difference does it make if one person drowns herself - if that was her choice? One woman is as good as another, a new mother can do the same job as the original, let's just go on with our daily lives and forget about the darkness. The sole person who may have actually thought matters through with any understanding, Therese, is ultimately the one who can't exist in this world.
It's also helpful in watching this I think - or at least, it gives the film even greater resonance - if one has seen "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg", made the previous year by Varda's husband Jacques Demy, which makes a fascinating counterpoint. Where "Le Bonheur" has the rhythmic feel and glossy surface of a musical, the Demy film actually is one; and where Varda's film actually ends up a tragedy - but wrapped up in cozy beauty - Demy's film is only a Hollywood tragedy. Did the wife make her savage piece of cynicism in response to her husband's bittersweet romance? I don't know, but it's fascinating to think about the many parallels...
On the whole, I think "Le Bonheur" is one of the key French films of the 60s, it stands for me with the much-better known works of Godard, Truffaut and Chabrol from the decade and it is certainly a powerful philosophical statement about the nature of relationships, fidelity, "happiness."
Throughout the film the music of Mozart is used, specifically the Clarinet Quintet, much of it enormously cheerful and beautiful but with a melancholy undertone always struggling to break to the surface - and this describes the film as well. Each segment of the film is broken up by a day in the country as the family leaves the confines of their medium-sized provincial city - each segment (save the last) begins in a carefree, naive and innocent happiness and the exquisite photography romances both the beautiful couple with their children and the countryside. Nothing could be more gorgeous...
But in fact François seems to suffer from an excess of happiness - he actually says as much at one point - or rather, he is incapable of feeling anything deep at all and experiences only a shallow surface thrill at the beauty of both his wife and his new love. He can't ever really decide between them and seems unable to grasp that he should even be thinking in that way, and that there might be problems developing as a result. I don't think it's any coincidence that Émilie bears a strong resemblance to Therese - blonde, roughly the same height and build, affecting fairly similar clothing and in the end, doubling in every way for her predecessor. François doesn't really want something different - he wants more of the same - or rather, he just wants to adore and be adored in a simple and childish way without thought of consequences. Perhaps it wouldn't matter if Émilie was strikingly different from Therese - but then perhaps it wouldn't be as obvious to us that all the man sees is the surface, and one surface seems as good as another...
At the climax of the film, the end of the third part, François confesses his affair, and it's obvious that he has no comprehension that it could be a problem - he has enough love for both of them, you see. But Therese, perhaps as incapable as he is of truly adult comprehension or communication, nevertheless is capable of rejection, and she does so in dramatic and final fashion, forcing him to choose by removing herself from the equation. At the end, Émilie has replaced her in every way and the only person who has apparently learned anything is the one who ended her life.
Varda deliberately creates a film that is all bold surfaces and colors - bright reds, pastel blues and greens, sunny yellows - and it is her use of color and editing that define the melancholy that underlies the happiness. When Émilie shows François her apartment for the first time there is a series of very quick cuts that show her possessions as François looks around, as if to show that in a few seconds he has taken in all he needs to, that he has found what he's looking for and doesn't need to think about it. And he never does.
All three characters are fairly shallow, at least the film doesn't explicitly show us anything much to contradict that, and this leads to an extraordinarily cynical feeling, particularly on a second viewing for me - really, she seems to be saying, if we don't think and don't communicate with each other, if all we want is happiness, then what difference does it make if one person drowns herself - if that was her choice? One woman is as good as another, a new mother can do the same job as the original, let's just go on with our daily lives and forget about the darkness. The sole person who may have actually thought matters through with any understanding, Therese, is ultimately the one who can't exist in this world.
It's also helpful in watching this I think - or at least, it gives the film even greater resonance - if one has seen "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg", made the previous year by Varda's husband Jacques Demy, which makes a fascinating counterpoint. Where "Le Bonheur" has the rhythmic feel and glossy surface of a musical, the Demy film actually is one; and where Varda's film actually ends up a tragedy - but wrapped up in cozy beauty - Demy's film is only a Hollywood tragedy. Did the wife make her savage piece of cynicism in response to her husband's bittersweet romance? I don't know, but it's fascinating to think about the many parallels...
On the whole, I think "Le Bonheur" is one of the key French films of the 60s, it stands for me with the much-better known works of Godard, Truffaut and Chabrol from the decade and it is certainly a powerful philosophical statement about the nature of relationships, fidelity, "happiness."